


mother, make me a bird of prey

by mystic_hyacinth



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Boys In Love, Brave New World - Freeform, Daddy Issues, Literary References, M/M, Mommy Issues, quiet afternoons spent in libraries, the mystic has returned as promised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9086410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_hyacinth/pseuds/mystic_hyacinth
Summary: Kurt loves his mother, Warren was too young to lose his.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry! I'm not dead! Glad to be back actually. 
> 
> There’s heavy reference to Brave New World by Aldous Huxley in this (it’s one of my favorite novels, sorry to say). mentions of death, lots angst, sorry if its ooc. Also, the song used for the title is from Mother by Florence + the Machine.

Warren and Kurt had taken a particular liking to the library and the many alcoves that were found all over it that could keep you hidden from view and your conversations well out of earshot. It wasn’t particularly busy, as most everyone had classes first thing in the morning, saving the library to be quiet except for the occasional cough or shuffling of feet or turning of a page.

Kurt didn’t mind it, nestled up in Warren’s chest and hi with the surrounding of fluffy white plumage proving to make this little hiding place not only perfect but also making him never want to leave.

“Please don’t tell me you’re reading Brave New World again.” Warren whined though still leaning down to kiss the blue boy in his lap.

“Bernard Marx is one of the most brutally honest characters I’ve ever read.” Kurt hummed, turning the page. “He lives in a world completely powered by pleasure, where feelings can’t be negative and -”

“You can have as much sex as you want.”

Kurt smirks, “Yes, but it’s a hollow world. There’s no conflict, there’s no feeling it’s just sex and drugs and a rigid caste system.”

“You think old Huxley was trying to predict the future?”

Kurt shrugs, carding his hands through Warren’s hair. “Ask him. We’re not there yet, though. We can still say things like ‘I have a mother and father’ and people won’t look at us funny.”

Warren’s frown was immediate and Kurt didn’t notice until he felt the hand on arm disappear.

“Engel, what’s wrong?”

“You can, that doesn’t make it true.”

Kurt’s eyes widened and he shut the book, as if looking at it would directly offend the both of them further. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking - it was just -”

Warren shrugged it off, “It’s fine, I mean, neither of su really had parents. My father was more of just someone I lived with, but he wasn’t my Dad.”

Kurt sighed, “Margali was my Mother, if not by blood, she was. She still is.”

“And your Dad?”

“That’s still pending.” he gave a small smile, though it was dotted with sadness, he leaned farther into Warren, sighing contentedly at the feeling of those arms returning around him and in turn he wrapped his tail round Warren’s wrist.

“Do you remember anything about your mother, your real one?” Warren asked, Kurt didn’t so much as tense, just shook his head. “I wish I knew her, though I understand why she gave me up. Be it out of spite or love, I’m not upset at her.”

There was a silence before Kurt looked up to him, “What about you?”

Warren bit his lip and smiled, though fondly it was almost as if remembering made him weary. Kurt pressed a hand onto his reassuring him silently that he didn’t have to answer if it hurt too much, they hadn’t been together for more than a few months, and Kurt worried maybe it was too soon to ask him like this. Warren may have never showed any type of emotions semblance of longing for something gone far too long ago, but Kurt didn’t want him to hurt.

“Yeah. I do. She was, she smiled a lot. She smiled so much she got her laughter lines way too early on, but she didn’t try to cover them up. She wanted to show everyone she was happy, and she had me and she had my father and she was so happy all the time. When she got sick, she was still happy, but that’s just because she knew I couldn’t take it. She would still sing to me and I would still sleep with her, and she - “ he stifles a laugh, “There was this story she would tell me any chance she got about the summer she spent in New Orleans when she was a kid and was nearly adopted by some fake voodoo priestess.”

Kurt smiled and hummed a laugh, stroking a hand over Warren’s face.

“At least you remember her?”

Warren shrugged, “It’s good sometimes, but then you remember that you had something, and it’s gone now. If you don’t remember, there’s nothing tying you to that person.”

“But then, you’ll think you never had them at all, and then there’s that emptiness there.” Kurt mumbled back, his eyes wouldn’t meet Warren’s, but the taller boy nodded. “So it this loving for something you don’t have now, but you don’t think you ever did have them to begin with.” she shook his head, finger roaming over the rosary about his wrist.

“Do you still miss her, even if you never met her?” Warren asks.

“I wish I could miss her.”

There’s a silence for a moment before Kurt goes to pick up the book again. “I like it, though. At the end Bernard gets banished, he gets to go out and think dn experience life for himself. He gets to dream about mothers and poetry and all that.”

Warren smiled and his lips are on Kurt’s again (that could be therapy all by itself, just kissing him). Kurt smiles into it and when he pulls away, tucks his head back underneath Warren’s chin.

“Sounds nice, banishment and dreaming.”

Kurt giggles, and turns the page again. “The dreaming especially.”


End file.
